


Maybe Someday

by Capt_Tzanakaki



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra has family, Catra's a princess, F/F, It's late, Kid fluff fic, The whole cast makes an appearence, They will age, Will retag later, fluff in general
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 05:53:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18844954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capt_Tzanakaki/pseuds/Capt_Tzanakaki
Summary: I have refused to livelocked in an orderly house ofreasons and proofs.The world I live in and believe inis wider than that. And anyway,what's wrong with, Maybe?--Mary Oliver





	Maybe Someday

**Author's Note:**

> This is very rough, not really edited, it's mostly so I can get back into writing 'cause it's been so long. (It is also very late, early?, when I posted this.) There will be general good feels because we need more light, fluffy goodness in this fandom. See other fics for your angst fix. 
> 
> Be warned: Nothing graphic but mentions and references to abuse, bullying, and other Bad Actions, I just can't remember what exactly. 
> 
> Won't be a long story. Expect a few more chapters and way too many scenes focusing on Catra's family because I loved writing them. This is essentially a "they-grew-up-together, they-were-roommates, Catra's-a-princess" fic all in one go. I drew inspiration from this somewhere I just need to find it, and, if applicable, get permission or give credit. Don't think I stole this unduly, mostly 'cause I don't do the tumblr thing, but if anyone thinks this borders on plagiarism, point it out and I will respectfully take it down. 
> 
> Enjoy,  
> CT

Catra stood to attention, eyes affixed on her sire. Malik bore a pensive frown that weighed down all the skin in his face. The silence stretched then sagged as they each waited for the other to blink.

The bag spoke first. “Catra? Can I come out now?”

“Hush, dummy!” Catra whirled on the linen sack, ears flipping back and up quick as her hiss. She turned to her father. “It’s empty,” she told him, stone-faced. There was a snort from the throne. Malik frowned further, then sighed. “Catsha, you’re going to cost your beloved mother a husband at this rate for when my blood pressure finally gets the better of my patience.”

Catra shrugged. “She has a spare.” Malik gaped and laughter mocked him from behind. He bared a canine over his shoulder. “Choke on it, Azuli. You’re hardly faultless here, given your leniency, nay, encouragement of her mischief, and now our cub’s kidnapped some poor village’s waif.” For show, he marched to the sack and took out what was inside.

“It’s mine!” Catra protested.

Malik reeled back. “It’s human!”

It squirmed.

“Give it, give it back!”

“ _Catsha_ , you pilfered a _human_ child? What were you thinking? Whomever taught you to abuse your royal authority—from which you are now grounded—will be…No, get down, you can’t this back. It’s going back where it came from!”

“No, it’s not!”

“Yes, it is!”

“ _No_ , it’s—Get,” he huffed. “Catsha!”

“I found it, I took care of it, so it’s mine! Give it back, Papa. Give. It.”

Malik and Catra tussled and snapped for displays of dominance. His cub skipped and scamped in every open space, one snatch too fast for his free hand, Adora waving in the air like a kite. Catra tried to scale his leg and torso to reach the hand that held Adora aloft, meanwhile Malik grabbed at his cub. Their tussling ended with both of them on the floor, Adora held up like a door prize and Catra’s shirt hem wedged firmly in his teeth when she got too close to his face.

A deft swipe of the child stilled both of them. The impervious stare of mother and Queen silenced Catra’s reflexive protests. “It,” she spoke, “is a she, and she has a name.” That stare moved from cub and consort to child in question and to Adora’s credit she did not flinch.

“Adora,” she finally answered when it came apparent Catra would not. The queen nodded ad set her down.

“Adora then. We will return you to your village and Catra will apologize, profusely and sincerely, to your mother for any grief caused.”

“I don’t have one,” Adora corrected, then clarified, “A village.”

Queen Cy’ra softy patted her head. “Your mother will still want your safe return, child.”

“I don’t have one of those either.”

The royal family went silent. “Where, who is your family?” Queen Cy’ra inquired in soft tones. Adora looked down at her shoes. Clasped her hands behind her back to hid her fidgeting. Catra walked over and held one of her hands. Adora squeezed back. Cy’ra stood up from her crouch, tail flicking in the manner that belied a thinking mind. Catra’s heart inflated with hope; not an outright no gave them a chance.

“Adora, someone has been taking care of you and Catra’s noted absences and escapades extend only so far back. Someone has to have fed you, taught you the language we both now speak, clothed you. You are not sickly nor infected as the degenerates of the streets can be. You tell me you do not have a mother or a father or family, but you do have a caretaker, don’t you.” Despite the wording, Adora understood it was not a question.

“I—” Adora swallowed, looked at Catra. Her hand felt warm in Adora’s, her knuckles nicked by Catra’s baby claws, and her finger pads rougher than Adora’s own; all of it felt like comfort and home. She looked back at the queen. “I, uh, h—” 

“She doesn’t have one,” Catra jumped over Adora’s own words with a firm twist of her mouth and a steadfast stare at her mother. Cy’ra raised a cool brow. “Capricious cub, I think Adora was about to disagree.”

“Adora doesn’t have a,” Catra growled low in her throat, “I took care of her.”

Cy’ra sighed. “Catra, we will not keep you from playing with Adora. We don’t hold such prejudices. But Adora has to go back to her caretaker. I bet they are frantically looking for her and should they get injured in the forest or worse, do you want that on your conscious?”

“I can only hope,” she muttered, but Magicat hearing was keen.

“Catra,” Azuri admonished from the throne.

“State your farewells. Adora is getting an escort back home, to her caretaker, and you, Catra, get remedial lessons for…kidnapping, I suppose. My own daughter a criminal by age six. That’s one for the history books.” Cy’ra ran a hand through her mane, frazzling the rough brown hair. Catra would turn her mane grey before her time at this rate.

“Adora _has_ to stay!” Catra shouted. The tone in his cub’s voice gave Azuri pause. He left his chair and knelt before his scion, gentle claws fixing the ear tuff fur. It spawned an involuntary loosening along Catra’s limbs.

“Catra, we are not forbidding you from seeing Adora. You both can play and Adora is welcome to visit. Now come, it is best if Adora is back before dark.” Reflex put his hand at the collar of Adora’s shirt and lifting the child up, handling her as he would a Magicat cub, which rucked her shirt from her lower back, secrets exposed.

“Gods’ blood…” Vicious, cruel bruises fresh and old rimmed her spine and butterflied out to her kidneys. A trembling claw pushed up the cotton weave—the back of his mind noting how pliant and protest-free Adora was, had been, through all of this—and stopped at the middle thoracic vertebrae. The bruises, however, kept going. He was very gentle pulling down Adora’s shirt and putting her back on the ground where Catra wasted no time grabbing her hand again. Azuri snapped his finger at the guard.

“Healer. _Now_.” They took off at a dead sprint.

“Azuli, I swear, I never harmed the child,” Malik drew in close, speaking softly and with concern, but still puzzled by Azuli’s request, wondering what he had seen. Azuli shook his head. He crouched low to be eye level.

“Adora, your…caretaker, they don’t really take care of you, do they.” Another not-a-question. Adora swallowed, looked down. Squeezed the hand holding her own.

“Catra takes care of me.”

The healer, mane gone white decades ago, came into the courtroom with no fanfare and with no pretense divested Adora of her garment after introductions. Catra whimpered at the sight of all the colors and growled at her friend.

“You were supposed to tell me,” she accused.

Adora tried to shrug, and lie, “They don’t hurt anymore,and you don’t play hide-and-seek with me when I do.” She winced and hissed as the healer dabbed antiseptic. Some of the bruises hid old cuts. “These are just part of the teaching process.”

Catra’s tail looked like someone stuck it in an electrical outlet. “I told you she’s a liar!”

“Catra,” Cy’ra warned. Her cub lowered her voice to growls and grumbles, ears pressed low and flat, and settled in closer to Adora’s side to the hinderance of the healer. “Catra,” Cy’ra sighed, and her cub obliged to a few inches away; their pinkies remained laced together. It drew a rueful, begging smile Azuri threw his partner’s way. Malik pinched his nasal bridge, muttering, “Of course we’re keeping her, you idiot.”

Catra’s ears visibly perked. “She can stay in my room.”

“You sleep with us, cub.”

“She’s really warm and she doesn’t kick in her sleep…anymore.”

“Azuli, no, do not encourage her,” Malik huffed over his helpmate’s blatantly obvious facial expression. “We have institutions for this sort of thing. Cat- _ra_ , we will fix a guest room for Adora who will be staying with us for _one_ night, do you hear me? One. Night.”

 

Azuri’s ear swiveled up, around, noted the off-sounds, and he sighed into the embrace of his queen. His tail batted Malik awake. “Your turn,” he slurred, nuzzling deeper under the comforter. Malik grumbled then cursed when his bare feet hit the cool marble. He was careful to keep his steps light lest he wake Cy’ra, exhausted from a long day of trade negotiations with Salineas, but had to double back to grab a pair of linen pants. Only the softest of glow from the hallway lamps cast muted shadows, but Malik could walk the number of steps blindfolded. He did not bother to knock.

“You mother needs sleep and so do you two. Quit your after-hours wrestling matches or you both sleep with us. On opposite sides of the bed, Catra.” They both squealed at being caught and dove for the covers. Malik stepped over toys and maps and a pair of cadet training staffs. Habit had him picking up the unicorn stuffed animal and giving it to Adora and then fluffing Catra’s favorite pillow. “I mean it. Sleep. If I have to come back, then I am bringing my own pillows and blankets and I’ll be sleeping here. I snore.” Malik leaned down and pressed his forehead to his cub’s for a long moment. “Sleep, little moonstar. Be rambunctious during the day so you can give your tutors nightmares. You’ll never achieve such ambitions if you are too tired for mischief.”

Catra cracked a big, toothy yawn. “Not tired.” Malik folded the covers to accommodate sleeping arrangements: Adora bundled knees up and Catra curled spinal circular at her legs. Their chests rose and fell to a slumbering rhythm before the lights went out. 


End file.
